Across the Tracks
by RJVause
Summary: Stood on the platform after missing her train, Piper considers the last 48 hours, and finds something of interest across the tracks. AU four-parter. Now (finally) complete.
1. Chapter 1

Your watch reads 08:27. You are running late.

By the time you reach the entrance to the subway station, heart pounding from the sprint from your apartment, you can hear the familiar sound of heavy wheels on train tracks pulling away from your platform, confirming what you already knew, that you have missed your train by just a minute, seconds even.

Your shoulders sag and as you walk down the steps you resign yourself to the fact you will most definitely be late for work. It's only Monday, so along with everything else you have to deal with, apologising to your pig of a boss for being late, again, is now also added to your list.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

As you wait on the platform you think back to the last forty-eight hours. In your opinion, you have just had the worst weekend ever, in fact worst doesn't even cut it. You have had a completely _shitty,_ most fucked up weekend you have ever experienced.

It had started out well enough, a pleasant relaxed start, browsing the local farmers markets like you both normally do, followed by a night with a night out on the Saturday. But that all ended when you found out your supposed best friend was sleeping with your boyfriend of six years. Initially you'd been calm, collected - not really taking in what they had said.

"We just want your blessing. We didn't decide to just love one another Piper - it just happened."

The words meant nothing at first.

It was after he moved away from your side, to hers. Took her hand in his, placed _his_ arm around her shoulder, not yours, not where it should be, that was when the words first struck home. _Love_. Not just sleeping with one another. Not just casual, fancied a fuck, sleeping together. They were in _love,_ and they wanted your fucking blessing as well.

That was where the past six years fell apart and you had no good reason not to be angry about it.

You had stood abruptly from the table, plates and cutlery clattering to the floor and screamed at them. Not just raised voices and strong words, proper full on screaming, for once not caring for what anyone in the restaurant had thought of you.

A tirade of harsh angry words aimed first at him, then her, eventually the both of them, fell from your lips like wine pouring from a bottle, tainted with the sheer hate you felt for both of them in that moment, for how they made you feel, for what they had done to you.

What had made it worse was they just sat there, looking at you with wide eyes and acceptance, listening to every word, eventually saying,

"We understand Piper, we knew you'd be angry, we just couldn't keep it from you any longer."

 _Any longer._ Two words that meant more than you knew.

That was when you turned your back on them and the six years with him and a lifetime with her; turned and walked out of the restaurant, back to your apartment. The one you shared with _him_.

There were instant reminders of your lives together as soon as you stepped in your shared space, it had been too much to handle so you had taken to smashing things.

First it was just photo frames, captured images of times when you had been happy together. A hike in the mountains. A trip to the park. When he had fucking proposed to you on the beach. Each fell to the ground as you broke each reminder of your lives together like they had just broken you.

Then it was anything he'd bought you, bought for the apartment, for the life you had planned together. Anything he had fucking touched.

Like the eye in a storm, you stopped for a second and looked at the devastation around you, for a moment you felt cleansed. Like you had taken all the shit and cast it aside, destroyed it. Then you thought that's exactly how you felt. Cast aside. Destroyed. Unloved. Incapable of being loved.

That's when the drinking started. When you realised that life you had planned for, invested in, had faded from view the moment those words had been spoken in the restaurant " _love_ ". Wasn't he meant to be in love with you? Committed to you?

You needed to escape this, to not feel the hurt and pain for just a moment, so took consolation in whatever alcohol you could find in your apartment. It started with the two bottles of wine in your fridge, but that wasn't enough. It had taken the edge off but it hadn't managed to numb the pain of your heart breaking, your life shattering into a thousand pieces.

Soon enough you were searching through cupboards, drinking the harder spirits left over from parties you'd thrown for friends, from holidays and special occasions long forgotten. It helped, the multiple liquids in their various shades, but it still went no where near covering the pain you felt.

When that had run out, you had managed to stumble to the local store and bought a bottle of tequila and a large tub of ice cream, ignoring the looks of pity from the young cashier behind the counter. As you placed it on the counter you realised it wasn't even organic ice cream. That's how shitty and fucked up you felt.

Morals and values seemed to have been left by the wayside by the two closest people in your life - so why the fuck should you care about the small things such as what you bought at the store anymore.

Opening the door to your apartment you saw the destruction you had caused with fresh eyes, the pain of realisation hitting you once more as to the reason this happened.

This time it wasn't anger that consumed you. Sadness swept over you, as the door closed, you slumped against it, slowly falling to the floor, hugging your knees close to your chest and you cried. Small sobs at first as the waves of emotion started lapping over the memories of the last six years together. As the tears fell down your face, you felt the warmth in them as they hit your arms and cascaded to the floor. It didn't take much more for you to break out into broken cries, punctuated with drawn out breaths as your body tried to keep going as the pain took you away.

You can't remember how long you sat there for, the cries turning to full, unashamed wailing, letting the emotion run out of you until there was practically nothing left. Nothing but a shell of the person you had been before the start of this God forsaken evening.

You picked yourself up off the floor and stumbled to the kitchen. The ice cream was doing a fine job of become a sticky melted mess, so was flung to the back of your freezer. You wanted to feel nothing. To be reminded of nothing. You grab the neck of the tequila bottle and take the lid off, grabbing a glass, caring not for the size of it.

You pour yourself a shot of the tequila and slam it back - taking comfort in the burn as it trickles down the back of your throat.

You decide to toast to all the things that are being discarded like an unwanted wrapper.

You take a shot. This one is for all the times you made plans.

The hard liquor hits the back of your throat and reminds you, _It's better this way._

Another shot. This one is for all the hopes and dreams you had of a life together. _Better it happened now than once you were married._

For raising a family together. _Could you even imagine yourself with kids? As a mother?_

For growing old together. _You thought you loved him, but was it just familiarity?_

For just not being alone. _Fuck._

As the last thought enters your mind, you realise your vision is getting hazy and you struggle standing upright. You move to the sofa and lie down. There is no way you are sleeping in your bed tonight. It will smell of him. Of the two of you. It will serve no purpose other than to remind you of the life that is no longer yours.

Your eyes start to close, and you welcome the weariness in your body. You have done it, finally, you've exhausted your whole being, to the point where you no longer need to think, you let the alcohol take control and you slip into the darkness of sleep.

Thanks to the variety of alcohol you consumed and the whirlwind of devastation that had stuck you unexpectedly only hours before, you slept well considering it all. When you surface from your slumber you realise that it's not actually morning, it's late afternoon and you've been out of it for sometime.

The hangover is a beast, but it was the incessant hammering on your door that was actually causing you pain, reverberating in your head and making you physically wince in pain.

Finding your feet, you stumble from the sofa to your door, hurling it open to lambast whoever was on the other side for making so much goddamn noise.

When the door opens you find him standing there, clearly in shock, as he first sees the state you are in, then the state of the apartment behind you. A worried look crosses his face which angers you. He has no right, you are like this because of him, because of her, _them._

You turn away, and in doing so attempt to slam the door. But his reflexes are quicker than your movement so he catches it before it shuts, and steps into the apartment, mouth open to the chaos he finds when he stands and surveys the remnants of your actions from the night before.

"Good god Piper - what happened?" He sees the bottles on the floor, the smashed remnants of your life together. "Did you drink all that? Is this why you weren't opening the door….are you still drunk?" His mouth flaps like a fish, not certain of what to say for a moment.

He goes to speak again, but you cut him off. You don't need his words, not now. Not ever. He gave up that right when he cheated on you. So you speak to him instead. Low, quietly spoken words, but carefully chosen, the hatred seething behind each syllable.

"Get your shit, get out. Leave me alone. I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you, _either_ of you again. Nothing can be salvaged from this, you gave that away when you slept with my best friend."

He stares at you - at the devastation surrounding you and goes to speak, but you remind him again. "Just get the fuck out of my sight. I can't bear to be around you. Take what you came for and leave."

You turn away, not without noticing the sigh and the sagging of his shoulders as he turns to the bedroom to collect his belongings. Moments later he reappears and moves to the door, a small bag in his hand. He'd planned for this. His stuff was already packed, ready to take. His voice is soft as he turns to go.

"We never meant for this to happen Piper, to hurt you, it's just, well, you know how love is-"

The glare from you is enough to halt him from speaking further, you go to say something but you decide you have no more words for him. No more energy to waste on him. He sees the anger in your eyes, how you have tensed up, knuckles turning white as you restrain yourself from lashing out at something, someone. So he turns and leaves, bag in hand, mind heavy with the words he wants to say, but knows he can't bring himself to say. The door opens, and with one last look, walks away from you one final time. Then he is gone.

Moments pass before you collapse to the floor where you were standing, you didn't think you had any more tears to cry - but you do. You shoulders shake with the sobbing, your heart aches, but after a while it starts to feel good.

You have finally reached that point where you can not get any lower. You have broken down so far, the only thing to do now is build back up.

You take the blanket off the sofa and wrap it around you, tucking your legs beneath you, curling into a ball, as if making yourself as small as possible will prevent any further hurt hitting you. You close your eyes and feeling the warmth surround you and fall back to sleep, only waking again the following morning to the sound of the alarm on your phone.

So that is how you come to be standing on the platform, late for work and the effects of the last forty eight hours still clinging to your skin, replaying through your mind.

You still feel numb, to your emotions, to the people around you, to everything. You have the need to do something though, something wild, unadulterated, _anything_ , just to feel again. Something that lets you know you exist, not just surviving.

You shake yourself from your thoughts, bring yourself back to reality, the here and now and that's when you notice her. The tall, _hot,_ dark haired woman stood on the opposite platform to you.

She is dressed casually, clearly not heading to any place that requires smart dress, instead she wears tight black jeans that fit her curves in all the right places, showing off her long legs perfectly; a white, low cut vest top under a leather jacket, and scuffed converse sneakers. Black rimmed glasses are pushed to the top of her head, holding back a few strands of her long hair, whilst her pale skin seems the glow in the dull light of the subway station.

You are mesmerised by her and stand staring at her across the tracks, your eyes tracing over every part of her, committing everything to memory. She keeps her head down, taking little notice of the people around her as she reads her book, unaware of how she holds your attention.

Whilst at college you dated men and women, so the fact you are taken by her is nothing new. The women and men you dated were hot, but none were as beautiful as this woman across from you now.

She continues to read, still engrossed in her novel, long delicate fingers turning page after page; you continue to stare, drinking in her beauty. You notice a slight smile appear at the edge of her mouth, and your heart flips. You feel drawn to her in a way you have felt with no one else, you yearn to hold her face in your hands, to feel your lips crashing into hers, to hold your body close to hers, to taste what she tastes like….

The sound of an approaching train breaks you from your thoughts, but you continue to look at her. The woman opposite closes her book and pulls her glasses from the top of her head, looks to her approaching train, then looks across the tracks, directly at you.

You can't hide the fact you were staring. There is no point looking away, so you just smile. Her eyes close slightly as she realises you've been staring, you notice their movements up and down your own body as she checks you out, a smile and a raised eyebrow confirming she likes what she sees.

But the train pulls in, blocks her from your view and your heart races, eyes frantically searching for her amidst the people getting on the carriages. Then you see her. She has stood by the closed doors nearest to you looking across to the platform you are stood on, her own eyes searching for something. Her eyes connect with yours and that's it. She smiles at you and suddenly there is a surge of electricity through your body as her gaze bores straight into you, reaching every part of you, jolting you back to life, pulling you away from the cliff edge you've been stood on since your world crashed around you.

As the train pulls away you both continue to look at one another until she is too far away for you to make out clearly. You release a breath you didn't realise you were holding and start to consider what just happened.

You feel as if something has been woken inside of you. For the first time in a long time, you feel alive.

A/N OK - so this was meant to be a one-shot that I started to write on my commute to a meeting this morning, hoping I would finish it after my journey. But the whole drunk, destructive Piper element of the story happened, so the story I thought of, stood on a platform this morning, waiting for my train to arrive, will be finished in the 2nd part. :)

I've tried to keep from over editing it (I normally re-read a bunch of times before updating anything!) - so any errors I do apologise for!

I had originally planned to update _Something Good_ whilst on the commute - but I liked this idea I had - so thought I would go with it, so sorry for that, I will work extra hard to get that next SG chapter up as soon as - but I hope you like this too.

As ever - reviews, comments, thoughts all very welcome! :D


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Ok - so it looks like this is turning into more of a multi parter than the one-shot / 2-parter I first imagined. I am sure you all hate me ;) More at the end - but thank you for all the likes reviews - they really do make my day!

(EDIT 15/9 - OK - I had some issues last night when I uploaded it - the format went haywire - so I've amended now, and hopefully got it back to how it should have been - apologise for anyone (ManveerlovesVauseman - I am looking at you!) who got a load of jumble instead of a chapter. Sorry! - it's fixed now!) _

 _As the train pulls away you both continue to look at one another until she is too far away for you to make out clearly. You release a breath you didn't realise you were holding and start to consider what just happened_

 _You feel as if something has been woken inside of you. For the first time in a long time, you feel alive._

MONDAY

You spend the rest of the day thinking about those fleeting moments on the platform, staring across the tracks at that woman, that beautiful, alluring woman

Your train had pulled into the station a few moments after the other her had left; you stepped onto it in a daze, the movement of the people on the platform beside you briefly bringing you back to the present, enough to get you on the train at least  
The whole journey was spent staring blankly out the window, swaying with the rocking motion of the carriage, replaying what happened again and again. The feelings of light-headedness from looking at her for the first time, the energy that coursed through you as your eyes met - these feelings intrigued you, excited you - frightened you even, but they were right there alongside those feelings left from the weekend. The hurt, the anger, frustration and loss. So many emotions, all jumbled together

You nearly missed your stop, all the thoughts racing round your mind about those few stolen moments distracting you from what was actually going on around you  
As you walk along the platform to the exit, you stop abruptly, suddenly wondering whether she could be here, commuters bumping and shoving into you as they try to make their way out to the street. You turn around, your head flicking from side to side, looking at the hundreds of people bustling past you. But she's not there  
The crowd dies down, so you turn back towards the exit, walking up the steps to street level, the daylight temporarily blinding you, the noise of the city assaulting your ears, the sheer number of people all rushing to their destinations  
You must be crazy, searching for one person in a city this size, the odds of you seeing her again are infinitesimal. What if that is not her normal station, that she was there today just by chance, visiting her parents, a friend, a _lover_. It's more likely that you _won't_ see her again, but you can't help but hope you do. You have to see her again, you need to

You walk to work, slower than normal, which is not wise considering you are already late and should be rushing to avoid further criticism from your boss. Eyes scanning the sidewalk for the tall brunette which each step, caring not for the fact you will most certainly be in trouble when you get to the office  
You start to think that it had been all in your mind, a side effect from the copious amounts of alcohol that had been swimming around your body over the weekend.

But it can't have been, what you felt, that was real, that was undeniably _something._

Your boss had been waiting for you at your cubicle as you slinked into the office, trying to hide the fact you were late again. He wouldn't let you sit down, instead he riled into you about timekeeping, how standards were slipping, that it's not the way things are done around here. In fact he is making you look like an idiot in front of your colleagues, who are at least not looking at the scene in front of them, but you know you will be the talk of the office later  
You don't say anything, merely nod your head at the right moments, and continue to stare at his face, which is getting redder and redder as his words get louder and louder  
There's a veiled threat of 'having to let you go if it doesn't improve Piper', it's at this point you speak, quietly mentioning it won't happen again and you'll work late to make up for it  
He nods his head at this, but as he turns away from you, he walks back to his office shaking his head. You know he won't sack you, the work you do is twice that of some of the others in the office - just he has never liked you for some reason

You sit down at your desk and focus on the tasks in front of you. The hours tick slowly by as you work your way through the mounds of invoices that have been piled on your desk. Checking each one, filing, checking, repeat, repeat. It's mundane but it keeps you focused, stops you thinking about the hurt caused by _them_ those few hours ago, the pain that followed and how you desperately wanted to feel nothing. But every so often your thoughts drift and you find yourself thinking of her again, and you feel light, like nothing could hurt you and you find yourself smiling

The others around you eventually stop for lunch, some invite you to go out with them, but you turn them down, excusing yourself from having to talk about what has happened at the weekend, using the pile of paperwork and the anger of your boss as the reason you stay at your desk

No one is too bothered - they wander out and the office goes quiet, so you are left with your thoughts again. You find it strange, how someone you spent six years with barely enters your mind, but the brief encounter this morning has you captive in your own thoughts once again  
You decide that it's no good dwelling on what happened. You may as well face the facts, it was a fluke - a chance occurrence. It won't happen again… But what if it did. What would you do? Would you be able to do anything? These thoughts occupy your mind long after your colleagues return from their lunch break.

The rest of the day goes slowly, but you actually manage to catch up with all the work you had for the day and a good portion of the work that you hadn't finished before the weekend. You still stay late and carry on working for an extra hour or so, the effort noticed by your boss who stands watching you from his office, arms crossed against his fat stomach, the expression still thunderous and you know you need to keep in his good books, it is still possible he could fire you  
Eventually you've had enough and gather your belongings together, and leave. Your sense that your boss is glaring at you as you pass his office, but you don't meet his gaze, instead you stare intently at the floor, and move as quickly as you can to the elevator at the end of the floor  
The elevator arrives quickly, the doors open smoothly allowing a fast retreat from the office and you step inside, in an instant the doors open again and you are out of the office block, out into the street once again

You don't feel like going home yet, so you just start walking, the late afternoon sun warming your skin, providing comfort in its warm rays. As you walk you wonder about the woman. Where is she from? What does she do? Have you been running through her mind as much as she has in yours? You laugh to yourself as you realise you are acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, rather than someone who has had the last six years ripped away from her in one crushing blow. Maybe that's the point of all of this. To let you know that bad things happen, you get fucked over, beaten up and broken down. But you carry on. You pick yourself up - brush yourself down and move on  
You find yourself near a small bar, you have been here before with some of those from the office, when it's been a birthday or some other reason to celebrate with a few drinks after work. It's not fancy by any means - but the service is quick and the drinks are good - before you realise what you have done, you have pushed open the door and stepped inside

Not normally one for drinking alone, you pause, wondering whether you should stay for a drink, or just go home, but the thought of heading back to the empty apartment makes the decision for you, and you take a seat at the end of the bar and catch the eye of the bartender

"Margarita, please" are the only words you say, a soft smile playing at the edges of your mouth

He nods and returns the smile, after a few moments places the perfectly mixed cocktail in front of you. You leave the money on the bar - and raise the glass, closing your eyes as the lime and salt tingling on your lips, savouring the taste as the cool liquid rushes over your taste buds, the alcohol easing the day away from you

For the briefest of moments, you think you could stay here forever, give yourself to the effects of the alcohol again, but you realise there is no point. It would mean that _their_ actions have destroyed you - broken you so much that they have stopped you, prevented you from moving on, kept you from living. You make a promise to yourself that no one is ever going to stop you again

As you drain the last of the cocktail from the glass - the bartender nods and points, silently asking if you want another. You consider, but shake your head slightly and stand to leave, not without glancing round, searching, just in case that dark haired woman happens to be here  
Of course you know she's not - that would be too perfect - too much of a cliché  
The air outside the bar has cooled, so you wrap your arms around you for a little extra warmth and head towards the nearest subway station

Unlike this morning, there are just a few people on the platform, it only takes a quick glance round to confirm that the one person you can't help searching for isn't there  
You are not waiting long before your train arrives, the part empty carriage means you find a seat easily enough. As the train lurches into motion, you think of how this day started. Back to how broken you had been, devoid of all emotion, just numb to the world  
There was no way she could have know the importance of that chance meeting, well - not even a meeting, a chance _observation_ of something so beautiful, so unobtainable. It had felt so right, almost as if the world knew that was what you needed to get you through. It was inevitable. Whether you'd been late this morning or the next, she would have been there, reminding you that you can survive, you can feel. You are alive

The train reaches your destination and you step out into the platform, more or less in the same place you stood over twelve hours ago  
As the carriages pull out of the station you wait for them to pass by, hoping that she is there again, waiting for you across the tracks. But she isn't. There isn't anyone waiting for you  
You walk up the steps to the street, eyes cast downwards, but it's as you come level with the sidewalk you hear it, a deep, raspy laugh that is music to your ears, reverberating in every molecule of your being  
You haven't seen the owner of that voice yet - you don't need to - you just know

Your pace quickens as you take the last few steps in your stride, bringing you out onto the street, the orange cast of a nearby street light flickering overhead as if to catch your attention, so you look and in the dimming light of the evening, you see her again

For a moment you can't be sure that this is happening - you've seen hundreds of dark haired woman all day, thinking, hoping it would be her, only to have your hopes halted when they turned around, the face you etched into your memory earlier that morning, not the one looking back at you

But this time it is, it is her. You had studied her so closely this morning you feel as if you could recognise her just by touch alone. The same dark hair, this time slightly curled, frames her face, those same black rimmed glasses which had rested on her head this morning are now adorning her face. It was the same perfect white skin, it was those same lips, but now accentuated with a blood red lipstick

She laughs again and it consumes you. You need to hear it again, to be the one that causes it

You go to call out but the sound catches in the back of your throat so you move forwards, away from the station exit towards the street, hoping to catch her, to say something, _anything_ to her - just so you can be in her presence a while longer

But before you manage to do any of that - the yellow door of the taxi she has been holding open is closing behind her and she is taken from your view once more  
As the taxi pulls away into the slow moving traffic, you just manage to make it in time to stand along side it, walking at a slow pace along the sidewalk - just able to see through the window, just able to make her out once more  
It's almost as if she knows you are there. Her head turns back to the street and your eyes meet again. There is a look of confusion on her face, she recognises you, but can't place you, but its gone instantly - replaced by a raised eyebrow and a slow smile.

The traffic starts to move and once again, you see her face retreating away from you as the taxi pulls further into the traffic and away from you. She turns in her seat to maintain the connection, your eyes locked on one another until you can't make her out anymore, then you stand still, your breathing returning to normal

It's not possible. In a city with hundreds of thousands of people, this shouldn't be possible. You think back to when you were sat in the bar, thinking about all this and one word comes to mind

Inevitable

A/N So HUGE massive thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and favourited this story. It means the world to me

For the guest who didn't enjoy it as it was a "rebound" storyline - that was never, and will not be the intention. Its about finding that connection with someone - which could happen at anytime

As some of you know from PMs - this was meant to be a one shot - which quickly became a 2-parter (as I can't reign myself in when writing!)/div  
Then this happened it's completely different to what I planned... But it sets it up for a few more chapters at least :D  
As with the first chapter, it's been written and published solely in one day - and I've tried not to over edit and change it, (which is hard for me to do) so errors and mishaps all mine - so sorry.

I'm now going to go back to my other story (where the 3rd chapter is becoming a beast) and try and get that updated too then maybe look back at this one ;)

Please review - your comments are all appreciated


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N It's taken a while to get this updated - I do apologise, not had much time to sit down and work on it, but managed a bit of time today - so have tried to get it sorted. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed or posted a review - lets me know I'm doing something right at least! :)**

* * *

 _ **WEDNESDAY**_

You were obsessed. There was no other way to describe it After that moment on the platform, that look of longing as the taxi pulled away, you wanted, no _needed_ more than ever to see her again.

You had considered being purposefully late again to work on Tuesday, in a vain attempt to try and recreate that fateful morning, but you couldn't risk it. Your boss was already pissed at you, turning up late for the second morning in a row was not an option. So you turned up, worked, went home, slept. Other than a cursory glance from your boss to make sure you had turned up on time - no one even gave you the time of day.

Wednesday arrives and you decide to keep to your normal routine, try and claw something back that you could call stable in your life right now.

You were at the station on time, got to work on time, and nothing extraordinary happened to you that morning. You tried to involve yourself in the conversations between your colleagues when you could, but you had little in common with them as it was. It was talk of wedding preparations or baby showers, neither topic that you were an authority on, so merely nodded, smiled at the right moments, then returned to staring into the bottom of your coffee cup, willing the end of the day to come around so you could leave.

You worked almost robotically for the rest of the day, completing the work without much thought. You boss even managed to comment on a job well done. Just proved to you that you could do this job with your eyes closed.  
You worked late again, despite wanting to leave, what did you have to race home for? An empty apartment? A broken life? At least in the office you weren't alone, well, up until the point the cleaner had finished her work and left you sat on your own.

You take your leave of the office around quarter past six, walking slowly along the sidewalk, distracted by your thoughts.  
In a half hearted decision you walk past the bar you sat in on Monday night, its tempting to go in and drown your sorrows at the bottom of a glass, but you know ultimately it won't help, so you walk straight to the nearest station.

As you wait on the platform, your phone vibrates in your pocket. Pulling it out you see the notification. It's from her. Since you found out about them at the weekend, she has been sending you messages constantly, trying to speak to you, trying to make amends. It was phone calls at first, you had thought to answer them at first and just scream down the phone line, but she wasn't worth the effort any more.  
Instead you let them go through the voicemail. After a while you reckoned she had worked out you weren't listening to them, so she had switched to messaging you incessantly. You just deleted them.  
You didn't care for her words, half hearted apologies to make herself feel better.

You swipe a finger across the screen and the words are gone, you place your phone back in your pocket just as your train pulls into the station.

Like normal, this journey home had been like many others you had taken. The carriage full of people, each involved in their own world, their own problems. You look at those around you, trying to work out who they are, what their story is. After a while you start to wonder if their eyes are looking at you too, trying to work out your story, what's happened to the pretty blonde girl to make her seem so despondent, so detached from the world and everything around it.  
Even if someone asked you, you doubt you would tell them the truth. Hide your feelings, cover them up, that's what your mother had taught you. That's how you had gone through life, never telling people how you felt, covering up the hurt and the pain. Not anymore. That had stopped this weekend when everything crashed in around you.

You stopped thinking about the others, about yourself and distracted yourself with another task. Since the weekend you hadn't done any shopping - if you wanted to eat when you got home, it was something you needed to do. You'd managed with the few bits in your fridge - but even that wouldn't last much longer, so you were now sat in your seat, mentally making a list of what you needed from the grocery store, when you were thrown forward from your seat unexpectedly.

The screeching of brakes travelled through the carriage – assaulting your eardrums, before the train shuddered to a stop, the lights flickering before going off and plunging the carriage into darkness.

Issues on the tracks were frequent on this line and normally wouldn't bother you. But it normally happened on the over ground parts of the tracks, when you could still see out of the windows, still see the world outside.

Not this time, with the lights out you still couldn't see anything, as panic starts to manifest itself in the back of your mind, you are still quick enough to work out that the train has come to a stop in a tunnel.

Shit.

It's at this point that the panic begins to bubble, rising throughout your body. You don't like enclosed spaces at the best of times, but you can deal with them. Dark, enclosed spaces are worse still. But this, _this_ , you can't deal with. One dark space inside another, you can feel the confinement starting to pull in around you and your heartbeat starts to increase, you can almost feel your heart pounding against your rib-cage.

Shit. _Shit._ Not now, just - keep _calm._

As your eyes begin to adjust, the faint emergency lighting reminds you that you are still on the floor - you pick yourself up, dust off your knees and return to your seat, hands grasping the seat in front of you tightly, you don't need light to know that your knuckles are going white as you grasp on, trying to remind yourself its OK, you are OK, its not an issue.

Your mind acknowledges the disgruntled comments of your fellow passengers, but swiftly changes its focus to your need to get out of the carriage; it's all you can think about, all you need to focus on right now.

The sane part of your mind knows that it's not possible, you can't just open up the doors, walk through the tunnel back out into the blazing daylight - but it's not the sane part of your mind that is in control now, and so your struggle begins.

You have not suffered a panic attack for a while now, but you can feel the incessant need to escape rising in your body, like water filling a sink. At the moment its possible you can deal with it – but sooner or later, everything is going to spill out over the top, you'd prefer for that not to happen, you need to get out before you get that far.

Your eyes have become accustomed to the dark now, you can make out shapes of the people around you, you can work out the layout of the carriage – but it doesn't help calm you down – in fact, it's the complete opposite.

You need to get out, to be free. You feel trapped – restrained by the carriage – the solid metal of the doors preventing you from feeling the fresh air on your face; further still you can feel the weight of the tunnel walls bearing down on you, suffocating you as they close in around you.

You bring your knees you to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, pulling your legs tight to your chest. You can feel your heart, still hammering in your chest as the panic well and truly takes hold of you. Closing your eyes and starting to hum to yourself, in an attempt to pull back some semblance of composure, some focus, repressing the need to jump up and start clawing at the doors, pulling them apart to allow you to escape this restricted space. You think it's working and open your eyes just slightly, and in a flash the composure vanishes and the panic increases again.

You try to level your breathing – its rapid and short and you know not enough oxygen is getting into your body which just makes you panic more. For all you try, the panic is outweighing the rational thoughts that this will all pass, the lights will come on, that the train will begin to move again. You know this will happen - but you need to do something, and you need to do something _now._

In a split second you are standing, fumbling your way along the carriage, pushing people out of the way - not heeding their complaints.

In the dim light you find the carriage doors, fingers scrabbling at the join attempting and failing to prise them apart. You try several times, but it is no use. The doors are heavy, too heavy for you to move them on your own. With the effort of trying to open the doors, and your shallow breathing - you are definitely feeling light-headed - the thought that you may faint passes through your mind and makes you panic further. You don't realise it, but you let out a guttural noise as the panic consumes you further, as you bang your hands against the doors, time and time again in a vain attempt to get them to open.

Your actions have become frantic now as you try once again to open the doors, hands moving wildly, sweat now beading on your brow with the effort as you manage to force your fingers into the gap between the doors once more. It's a momentary glimpse of hope as you hold on to the belief the doors will relent and open, but you just don't have the strength, the small distance you had managed to prise the doors apart, the small victory you had given yourself, vanishes as your grip on the door fails and the doors return to their original position.

You can not take it any more - the feeling of confinement is too much, but you give into your emotions now, sobbing, flailing your arms at the doors again, your hands pounding the cold metallic surface so hard, you know there will be bruises there tomorrow, but you just don't care.

It feels like hours, but in reality its only a few seconds, that you feel your legs start to give out from underneath you, making you tumble forward, falling against the doors and begin to slump towards the floor, but you don't reach it. Something has changed and you are no longer alone. You feel the presence of someone behind you, wrapping their arms tightly around your own, preventing you from lashing out any further, pulling you close into their own body, their strong arms holding you up, protecting you, calming you.

You hear a sound in your right ear, who ever has their arms around you has their head just over your right shoulder, not saying anything, it's not words you hear, but a calming noise, like a low hum, or a quiet whisper escaping their lips, trying to calm you, trying to focus you.

Your first instinct however is to fight against the tight embrace, as it is something else trying to trap you in the dimly light train carriage, but the arms refuse to let you go. Instead they hold you tighter, keeping you locked in this embrace offering you the comfort you need to help combat the flow of panic still coursing through your body.

All the strength you had has gone, exhaustion begins to creep through your body like mist rolling in off the sea. The need to break away from this stranger slowly subsides, the longer you are held, the quicker the feeling of calm descend on you. The panic dissipates and you begin to feel more relaxed. The stranger seems to pick up on the tension abating in your body, releasing their hold on you just enough to let your arms drop to your side, but rather than releasing you fully, their hands rise to your shoulders, slowly turning you round to face them instead. Hands still on your shoulders, you are aware of a slight movement - as they drop their head slightly to try and look at you in the dim light. You can feel their eyes trying to search for your face, trying to work out if you are OK - or going to flip out again. In the dim lit you can make out its a woman, her features concealed by the darkness as your eyes are still readjusting to the available light again, a little taller than you - but that's it, that's all you can ascertain about this person in front of you.

As you continue to try and work out who this is, who would bother to try and help you, the woman speaks to you. In a voice, so low and soft, barely audible despite the lack of noise around you, her voice is calm, soothing - and any remaining panic in your body floats away with the words she speaks to you.

"Hey, hey, it's OK, sssssshhh. I got you."

Despite the low tone, you can still hear that the voice has a rough, slight rasp to it, but it is the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. All you want to do is bury you head into the shoulder of this woman, listening to nothing but the sound of her voice, the voice repeats again "its OK, it's OK" - and you honestly believe that it will be.

Her hands are moving from your shoulders now, simultaneously moving down each arm towards your hands. You try to pull away - knowing that if she takes hold of them they will be sweaty from your previous panicked state, but she continues, holding hers over yours at first, then interlaces her fingers with your own. You notice how carefully she does this - not trying to panic you further - instead offering you the calming presence you need, grounding you.

Your thoughts are drawn towards her touch - you notice how soft her skin is, how slender her fingers are against your own. Her touch soothes you to your very core and you can't help but curl your fingers into hers - locking your hands together, willing her to stay with you a moment longer.

Without lessening her touch, she moves slightly, the motion making you step closer to her and in an instant you are where you wanted to be, head buried into her shoulder, surrounded by her scent.

She is clearly wearing a leather jacket as you feel the coolness of the material against your cheek, long hair tickles your nose and you breathe in - a heady mix of leather and vanilla and its like nothing you have ever known, but feel so comforted by it.

The woman loosens her grip on one of your hands, your left hand feels cold as her warm hand slips away, moving higher to rest at your neck, stroking your hair, her low voice soothing you again.

"Hey, it's OK, it's OK. Don't think about it. I'm here. I got you"

You can't think how long you have stood there, held in an embrace neither person seemed to want to step away from. Time appears to have stood still for you as the actions of this complete stranger whirl around in your mind, replaying over and over. What would have happened if she hadn't stepped in when she did - would you have continued to pound the doors - scratching and clawing at them, failing to make an escape? For certain you probably would have broken a few bones in your hands - the dull ache already a reminder of your earlier actions.

But stood here, with your head still buried into the shoulder of this stranger - you feel safe. Protected. Cared for. She knows nothing about you, so why help you - why bother. No one else did. There must be twenty or thirty people in the carriage who would have witnessed your breakdown - so why her? Why was she the one who stepped forward to help when its easier for everyone else to ignore you?

Both her arms are held loosely at your back now, her thumbs tracing light patterns on your back - a soothing gesture that keeps you relaxed, but still keeps you close. Its a light touch and you know if you wanted to move away there would be no struggle, she would let you go, but you don't want to move. This is where you need to be right now, more than ever.

Your own hands are not sure what to do - so hang loosely at your side, your body still leaning into the shoulder of the other woman, your eyes closed, listening to your breathing return to normal, to the low hum from the other woman keeping you grounded, protecting you still.

That's when you notice it - the light falling on your eyelids, the noise as the other commuters muttering at the change in circumstance, the noise of the engine starting up again, and the movement of the other woman away from you, her hands still on your shoulders - but a distance between you now that you weren't expecting.

You open your eyes slowly - focusing on the woman in front of you - lit by the orange cast of the lights blinking on in the carriage - as they focus - your heart stops.

Blinking to make sure that your eyes are not deceiving you, but you can't believe it. The woman stood in front of you, dark hair, black frames, a knowing smile on her face, an eyebrow raised just so. It can't be.

She is looking at you now, properly focusing on your face as the light lets her look at you for the first time. Her stunning green eyes blaze from behind those glasses, staring deep into your own as they trying to place you, recognition flitting over her face after a few seconds, you can see that she remembers you. She knows that she _has_ seen you before, the smile on her face widens as she places you, the hands on your shoulders squeezing ever so slightly, the small touch kick starting your heart again, the breath you were holding released.

"Hey kid. Good to see you again."

It's her.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Hey kid. Good to see you again."_

 _It's her._

* * *

You stand still for a moment, the two of you connected, as her hands remain, resting lightly on your shoulders, and for a moment you think about how she is the first person to touch you since the weekend when your life fell apart. Even through your jacket, you can feel the warmth of her touch, radiating out to every corner of your being.

Physical contact; so often you had taken it for granted, only now noticing its complete absence from the past few days from the simple touch of a stranger; how so much can be said with out the need for words; so much so that this simple action renders you speechless.

She's still looking at you, those perfect green eyes searching your face as she tries to work out if you are OK, whether the panic is subsiding enough for her to release you from the gentle hold she has on you.

But she doesn't let go of you, and her hands continue to hold on to you, although you consider whether she's actually holding you _together_ , as opposed on to you.

So even though your breathing is returning to normal; even though the wild look in your eyes is subsiding as the train rumbles into life, continuing on its journey as if nothing had happened; even though you are a complete stranger to her.

She doesn't let go.

You focus on those long slender fingers that are placed on your shoulders. The touch is so light its barely there, but it offers you the weight you need to feel grounded, secure, _safe_. There is concern in those green eyes as they look to you, still searching, seeming to delve into the heart of you, easily discovering that it may appear that on the surface you are fine, but underneath you are complete chaos.

It scares you that she seems to be able to see past the façade you constantly display to the world, that she can see you for who you really are, _what_ you really are.

You are shattered.

You are completely broken.

The train is picking up speed again and the two of you start to sway; you notice her hand grips your shoulder a little more tightly as the rocking of the carriage unbalances her for a second. But she still doesn't break her hold of you; instead her eyes narrow slightly as if she is contemplating what to do next. The movement is only small, but with a slight movement of her head, she indicates to the seats to the side of where you both stand.

It makes sense, to sit down, but it means she will no longer be as close, you won't be able to feel her warm breath falling over you, covering you in a blanket of calm, bringing you down from the heights your panic drove you to. If you sit down, this connection between you will be broken, the chance for her to move away from you possible. You just don't want that to happen, so you remain standing, mind racing in an attempt to keep her close to you for just a moment longer.

Her voice breaks you out of your thoughts, it is deep and raspy, but the tone is light, playful even, and it makes you smile to hear it,

"Look kid, can we sit down? I can't keep hold of you _and_ keep standing, I'm good, but not _that_ good. This crappy train is rocking all over the place, it feels like I'm gonna fall over any minute…"

She is chuckling as she speaks, and you know that she is trying to keep the mood light as she tries to guide you to act, not wanting to force you to do anything. You nod, although your head barely moves, it would have been imperceptible to most, but she sees it, offers a slow smile in return, takes a small step back and waits for you to move first.

As you turn to sit, she can no longer hold onto you with both hands, but you can still feel her touch on your shoulder, a light squeeze reminding you she is still there.

You are still tense, you can still feel the remnants of panic in your body, but at least it is subsiding now, but as that particular sensation leaves, it leads the way for exhaustion.

You notice the touch on your shoulder disappears as the woman flops heavily into the seat beside you, and now the closeness between you comes only from arms pressed against one another, a forced proximity from the seating arrangement in the carriage, not through choice anymore.

Without her touch - you push your body into the cold, hard surface of the seat, a poor attempt to remain connected with something in the world around you that can offer a fragment of stability and comfort.

It only takes a moment, but as the exhaustion begins to sweep through you, like waves crashing against rocks, and you begin to feel overwhelmed by it all.

So you drop your head, closing your eyes as you try to shut out your surroundings for a moment. Your hands are flat against your thighs, fingers spreading out as your hands tense and relax slowly. You try to focus on the movement, trying to find a way to bring yourself down from the thoughts flying around you, back towards something smaller, something closer, something more tangible.

But you fail.

Because all you can think about is her. This perfect creature who has haunted your thoughts for last few days, only to materialise at the very point you needed someone to be there for you. Who is so close to you now, but seems so distant at the same time.

You screw your eyes tighter still, hoping that it brings you a focus that will enable you to work out what to say to her that can express your gratitude, offer some explanation as to the _why,_ the reasoning behind your earlier actions, what happened to push you so far, that drove you to be like you are.

But you never need to find the words, as you feel her touch, her cool hand resting on top of your own once again. The slow movement as her long fingers wrap around your left hand, and it makes you wonder how one small touch, how this contact from someone you have no connection to, no knowledge of, can ground you so completely, slow the world from spinning so fast around you, yet make your heart race, beating against your chest so hard, you feel as if those around you can hear it's pounding rhythm.

Her voice is low, barely a whisper against your ear as she leans towards your, the closeness no longer something you feel has been forced upon her, its welcomed, and initiated by her once again.

"Are you going to be OK?"

It's a simple enough question, considering what she has seen you go through on the carriage, after it was plunged into darkness and you panicked, fighting for your escape.

But she can't know how much weight that question actual holds for you. After the weekend, after all the _shit_ you went through, how you had longed for someone to ask you that, but no one knew what you had gone though – no one cared enough to see through that barrier you put up.

Until now.

You raise your head and stare out in front of you for a moment longer, your focus on the carriage before you, before turning to face this person who was offering you so much solace and currently asking for nothing in return.

"I've been better..." There is a trace of laughter in your voice and you attempt a smile, not one that's forced, but a genuine attempt. As your eyes rise to meet hers, you see the concern etched across her face ease for a moment, the corner of her mouth curling slightly as she notes your attempt at humour. "...but thank you. You didn't have to help me." You glance around at the others in the carriage, everyone a witness to your moment of panic, yet none of them offering anything as close to the comfort this woman offered you now.

She shifts in her seat, angling her body so she is turned to face you, her hand still wrapped around your own.

"I couldn't let you go on much longer kid, either you were going to smash that door down, or you were going to end up with a couple of broken hands..." Her thumb is tracing over your knuckles, the cuts and grazes evidence to your futile attempts at escaping; the skin blooming with colour already as the bruises start to settle under the swollen skin "...and I think I know which of those outcomes was more likely. But I have to say, there's a strength in you I've never seen before..."

It's there again, the concern in her voice, in her green eyes that bore into your own, almost fixing you to the spot, stilling your mind and movements so you are unable to escape from her gaze, from her presence.

You will your body to move, to break free from this spell you seem to be in around her, as you extend your free hand, offering it towards her, your own voice low, barely a whisper, "Am I allowed to know the name of my savior then, or are you going to disappear into the night as soon as we arrive at the next stop?"

Her laugh ripples though you and extends her own hand to meet your own, her grasp firm as she offers her introduction, laughter inflected in her voice,

"I'm no ones savior kid, but the name is Alex. Alex Vause. Nice to meet you..." She drags her last word out, expecting you to fill in the rest.

"Piper. Piper Chapman."

"Well, Piper Chapman, the pleasure really is all mine."

There is a spark in her green eyes that captivates you, something about the way she holds herself, an easy confidence that makes it so simple to feel relaxed around her, and it is all that is needed for you to let go of your concerns as you both slip into an easy conversation. Nothing specific, just general talk as you are both keen to keep the conversation light, but before you realise it, you are you are nearly at your stop, and you don't want to have to leave what seems to be developing between the two of you. It's new and unknown, but at the same time seems like you have known one another forever.

You shift in your seat, glancing out of the window, eyes narrowing as you make out the station name in the dimming light, all the while wondering what will happen when you need to leave the train to go home, will Alex let you go? Will she follow you? Would you stay and follow her? You mind is racing and once again, Alex saves you from yourself, she already seems to be able to read your thoughts, and squeezes your hand gently to get your attention before she speaks,

"Look, my stop is coming up – there is an excellent little Italian restaurant I know of just a short walk from there. I can really recommend the cannelloni after a really, umm, _stressful_ day, if you'd care to join me?"

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment you wonder whether she is doing this more out of pity, like she has some sort of duty to look after you.

"I don't want to impose any further on your day Alex, you've helped me so much already." You look away, not wanting to look at the face that already seems so familiar to you, that you could recall with your eyes closed in an instance.

She chuckles, squeezing your hand again to gain your attention, as you meet her gaze, you can see that her offer is genuine, her words confirming what you are beginning realise, that Alex doesn't want to leave whatever this is between you just yet, she doesn't want your time together to come to an end _just yet_ either.

"You'll be doing _me_ a favour. My flat-mate is out of town, I hate the thought of cooking, let alone cooking for one, and anyway, good food should always be eaten with _good company_. What do you say?"

You look down at yourself, you are dressed smart enough for an office, but its not the clothing choice you would make for a meal with someone you feel has so much potential to be _something_ in your life. Even after she has seen you at such a low point, you still want to make an impression, to be some version of the Piper you believe you can be, that you now are.

"I'm hardly dressed for dining out Alex."

There is a smirk, a raised eyebrow as she looks you up and down, a smile reaching across her face, "Pipes, its fine, _you,_ look fine." You open your mouth to disagree, to give her once last chance to back out of the offer, but Alex is speaking again before you have the chance to say anything further. "Look. Morello's is a great place, _trust me_ ; its great food, good drinks and a relaxed atmosphere. They don't care whether you come in a suit, or jeans, they just want you to enjoy the food…" There is a glint in her eye as she delivers the last line, "and if it makes you feel any better, you can buy me a drink to say thank you for saving that door from a fate worse than death..."

So you find yourself nodding and smiling, agreeing to the offer, leaning into Alex as her slender arm reaches around you, pulling you closer.

* * *

You stand on the platform for a moment, watching the train pull away into the darkness ahead of it, wheels clattering against the metal of the tracks, red taillights vanishing into the depths of the tunnel. Departing passengers move around you, making their way along the platform to the stairs and out into the night air, until it is just the two of you that remain.

Alex is slowly making her way to the entrance, but stops when she hears you speak, the low tone of your voice carrying easily as the station becomes still once more. "When I saw you for the first time, I'd had the worst weekend, possibly the worst in my entire life and I felt like complete shit."

You hear her turn in her place, slow footsteps sounding on the dull concrete as she moves closer to you – but you remain where you are, looking out to the other side of the platform, "Then there you were. Stood there, across the tracks and I couldn't take my eyes off you, you know"

"I know" Her voice is barely a whisper as she leans close to your ear, you can hear the smile in her voice, can picture the smirk that is on her face, but still you don't turn to look at her.

"When you got on that train, I thought I wouldn't see you again; two strangers meeting again in a city this size - it would have to be some sort of miracle, right?" Alex doesn't say a word, but stays rooted in her place at the side of you, her hand resting in the small of your back as she listens to you voice your thoughts. "But then you were in that taxi, you were on the train tonight, it's almost like us meeting, was, I don't know…"

Her voice is louder this time, and her choice of words takes your breath away, because hadn't you considered the same word to yourself?

" _Inevitable_?"

Two days after seeing Alex for the first time across the tracks, after falling for her so completely without even knowing her, you are back once again, more or less in the same spot, but this time, she was wasn't separated from you by the divide created by the tracks.

This time she was stood by the side of you, now moving carefully to stand in front of you as an arm wraps slowly around your waist, a hand rising gracefully to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear, a smile growing on her face; green eyes beginning to shine as she looks to you.

As you feel her presence alongside you – there is an unmistakable buzzing throughout your whole body. Almost like electricity arcing between two points, the air between you buzzing as if your nerve endings feel every little movement, every small touch; as if all of a sudden something has switched on inside of you and you feel, _alive._

You don't need to think about what you do next, it's done as if you've stood like this a million times before; the small distance between the two of you is closed in an instance, as you place your lips on hers, a smile crossing your face as you do so, reveling in the feeling as she tightens her hold on you, capturing you in her possession.

The kiss for now is gentle and chaste but throughout its brief and fleeting moment, you know that Alex is smiling as much as you are. As you pull away, you utter no words but the looks that flow between you say all that is needed. So instead you take her hand in your own and move together towards the steps that will take you out into the world that now lies open in front of you both.

As the cool evening air wraps around your body, as the two of you begin to walk along the sidewalk; you can not help but feel the tremor of your heart in your chest as look to Alex, then to your intertwined hands whispering as much to the cold night air as to yourself,

"Yes. _Inevitable_."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **OK, again – so, so,** _ **so**_ **damn sorry it has taken an inordinate amount of time to get this finished. It's been the hardest one for me to write; I've had a number of false starts and botched attempts with this last chapter, I hope this chapter wraps it up enough for everyone – please let me know what you think.**


End file.
